


Welcome Home

by BurnItAllDownDahling



Series: A Family Affair [20]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, Sleep Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 14:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnItAllDownDahling/pseuds/BurnItAllDownDahling
Summary: Vergil's away for a week, so whatever will Nero and Dante get up to? Time travel and heartbreak, of course.





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is vague fulfillment of a prompt, "how about a time travel or an alternate universe fic? Maybe future Nero back in time." Or, present Nero meets DMC3 Dante.

Vergil was away for a week, at -- of all things -- an arcane-goods dealer trade conference overseas. "I INTEND TO PROCURE AN ITEM OF CONSIDERABLE RARITY," he texted to Nero from the airport. Nero had given him a cellphone, and Vergil seemed to find the whole concept amusing enough that he'd actually started using it. Nero was pretty sure Vergil knew that typing in all caps was "shouting," and he was doing it on purpose. Asshole. "WE SHALL SEE HOW MUCH BLOOD NEED BE SHED IN THE ENDEAVOR."

"dont kill ppl dammit," Nero texted back. Vergil did not reply. He did, however, send one last text, before apparently he had to shut off the phone for takeoff.

"TAKE CARE WITH DANTE."

"course," Nero texted back, mildly irked at the reminder. He always took care of Dante, didn't he? They took care of each other.

Only later did he parse the phrasing of Vergil's statement again, and notice that Vergil had said WITH, not OF. By then, however, it was far too late.

#

Time-travel was the last thing on Nero's mind. Even after the timesteed was dead and he'd hooked its ghostly, glowing front hooves to his belt -- one for Nico, and one to pay Dante back for the latest repairs to DMC thanks to his dumbass demon -- he was too tired to consider the implications of the creature's power, or to pay much attention to his surroundings. It had been a grueling battle, not because the timesteed was particularly powerful, but because the thing kept knocking Nero backwards in time whenever he was about to hit it. For fucking _hours_. He'd finally managed to manifest a doppelganger to fool the creature, which allowed him to take it down from behind. Vergil was going to give him so much shit about that part, he knew. He would call Nero a thief, meanwhile pretending he wasn't secretly pleased by every Vergil-ism that Nero turned out to have inherited -- but fuck it. Whatever won the battle. Even though there had been a weird flash in that moment when he'd struck the final blow...

Well. Anyway. It was done, and all he wanted now was a shower and his bed.

By the time he'd flown back to DMC -- almost falling asleep in midair and narrowly missing a church steeple -- he didn't even have the energy for the shower. "Gonna use your room," he muttered as he walked into DMC, nodding blearily to Dante where he sat in his customary position at the desk. "Nobody wants to smell me right now. Oh, and here." He tossed one of the timesteed hooves onto the desk. "Ought to get a good price, so now you can stop bitching at me about that little crack in the ceiling."

"Mmmh," Dante said, noncommitally, which was typical Dante. Nero figured he'd just woken up from another nap at his desk. He registered that Dante wasn't wearing a coat or even a shirt, but Dante skinned around all the time. Not usually where customers would see, granted, but still. The haircut -- long and loose, framing his face closely -- was new, though. Very Seventies chic, though it didn't look out of date on him because Dante.

"Looks great," Nero said, waving as he turned to head upstairs. "Fucking gorgeous, but you know that. See you in the morning."

He trudged upstairs and kicked aside the usual trash that filled Dante's room while he tugged off sweat-soaked and ichor-stained clothing, tossed it over a chair, and then fell into the bed facefirst. The sheets smelled thickly of Dante, which was weird, because Nero was pretty sure Dante hadn't slept in his own bed in at least six months. Eh, whatever, maybe he jerked off here when Nero or Vergil weren't around.

He'd begun to drift off when he registered that Dante was in the room, leaning against the doorsill. It annoyed him. "C'mere or go away," he grumbled. "'M not a fucking exhibitionist."

After a moment, he heard Dante pick his way through the trash and come over to the bed. "Nice," he said, and after a moment Nero felt a hand slide down the bare skin of his back, fingertips tracing his spine. They slowed on the approach to Nero's ass -- teasing, the bastard, as if he hadn't just had his tongue in Nero's ass the night before. Nero cracked open one eye to see Dante standing over the bed, one hand on a hip. It was hard to see his face with all that hair in the way. Nothing but his lopsided smile as he said, "You're kinda gorgeous yourself."

"Thank my father," Nero sighed into the pillow, letting his eyes drift shut again. "Quit teasing. I told you, I stink."

He felt the bed dip a little, and heard the faint creak of Dante's leather pants as he bent to breathe the scent at Nero's neck. "I like how you smell."

Impossible not to hear the low, suggestive note in Dante's voice. He didn't smell particularly of lust -- mostly curiosity, which was weird -- but Nero growled and shifted anyway, because his dick had naturally responded to that note, the way it always did. Usually it meant that Dante was in a hungrier-than-usual mood, and that was always a good thing. But Nero was _tired_, damn it.

"Fine," Nero said, yawning even as he spoke. "You want my ass, have at it. Just not too rough this time. I need some sleep."

Ah -- now _there_ was a sharp scent of lust, familiar as his own scent. "You want me to fuck you while you sleep."

Why was he even asking? It wouldn't be the first time Nero had woken up with a cock in his ass or his mouth, or drying come on his belly or in his hair or, once, in his ear. Hazard of having two lusty half-demons for lovers -- though frankly, he'd done his quarter-demon share, too. "Yeah," he snapped, irritated at having to speak more than necessary. "Just go ahead and finish inside me, though, okay? Don't want to sleep in a wet spot."

"Well, _well_," Dante drawled, a deep note of amusement in his voice. He got up, and Nero heard the jangle of his belt buckle, which really just made his own dick harder. "I guess if I've got to have rotten luck with women, there has be _some_ good luck falling into my lap -- or my bed -- to make up for that."

"Mmmh," Nero said. And then he fell asleep. 

He didn't mean to. Aggressive!Dante was always a glory to be appreciated, and he _had_ been rocking that whole shirtless, low-slung pants look; delicious. But it had been a hard day, and when Nero woke again, Dante had his hips up was moving inside him with slow, deep, steady strokes. Like a massage -- and he'd lubed Nero up this time, so like an _oiled_ massage. It wasn't Dante's best technique; usually he tormented Nero by working all his sweet spots. It was perfect anyway. He let himself utter a groan of appreciation, and Dante laughed softly. 

"Thought you were going to sleep, gorgeous," he teased, between soft rhytmic breaths.

"Harder," Nero muttered.

"If I go harder, you won't be able to sleep."

"Oh. 'Kay." He was drifting again, riding on the steady rolling waves of pleasure, like falling asleep on the surface of a warm ocean.

"Yeah, see? Just go back to sleep. Feels good, huh? Sure fucking does. Sweet as candy."

"Yeah..." Nero fell asleep again and dreamed of bliss and then gasped awake, his whole body spasming, his cock offering up its pleasure into Dante's hand while he grabbed the sheets and uttered a completely uncool, helpless little, "Uck!"

Dante was still in his ass, although he laugh-growled and braced himself when Nero recovered enough to lift his head and blink around, confused and aftershocky. Dante was still fucking Nero, too, though with the quick, deep pushes that meant he was close. "Yeah. Wanted to feel you -- hnh, yeah -- come at least once. Wanted you to feel _me_ \-- nnh, _fuck_ \-- " And then he shuddered, his hands turning into vises on Nero's hips, and pushed into Nero deep enough that Nero could feel the delicate pulse of his balls. He moaned softly, rocking as he came for what felt like an eternity, and then he shuddered and sagged against Nero bonelessly.

"Yeah," Nero breathed, also pretty bone-free for the moment, putting his head back down because it was spinning. Of course he would have one of the best orgasms of his life while sleeping. "Nice."

Dante, the wretch, laughed and finally pulled out of him. "There you go." He slapped Nero's ass affectionately. "All loaded up in the back, no wet spot in the front. I do love taking requests." Then he flopped down behind Nero and spooned up to his back. "Now we can both get some sleep. And in the morning, gorgeous, maybe you can tell me your name."

"Nnh," Nero said. But post-coital lassitude and deep exhaustion now conspired to jump him, and he sank into sleep again, this time for the night. He had time for a tickle of a thought -- _Did he say **my name**? Nah, can't be_ \-- and then his mind went still.

Except the faintest awareness as Dante sighed against the back of his neck. "If you're a dream," Dante murmured, with a sigh so heart-weary that it almost, _almost_, stirred Nero back awake to ask what was wrong, "I'll take it. Shit. You even smell like him."

Nero slept.

#

He woke up feeling warm and safe, as he always did when he slept with Dante or Vergil or both. Needed to piss, though. With a yawn and a stretch he lifted Dante's arm, which was draped over him, and kissed the fingers before pushing it aside. Dante sighed and grumbled and flung the arm over his eyes, but didn't wake. Nero got up, headed down the hall to take a leak, then decided to detour to his room, which had an attached shower. No sense inflicting his stink on Dante any more than he already had.

He opened the door to his room -- and stopped in his tracks.

Boxes. The room was dark and full of boxes. His bed was gone. He couldn't see any of the furniture he'd bought with his first DMC paychecks. Where was the little philodendron he'd so far managed not to kill? The rugs he'd put in to make the room feel more homey --

Then Nero went utterly still. Because he remembered, suddenly, when the room had last looked like this: a few years ago, right before he'd moved in. But it had been dusty then, and so thick with spiderwebs that he'd actually checked for demon spiders. Dante, the slob, hadn't cleaned the room since he'd opened Devil May Cry, twenty-something years before.

The room wasn't very dusty now. The boxes didn't have that saggy, moisture-swollen, dust-mite-eaten look that they'd had when Nero cleaned it. It was almost as if...

...as if the boxes hadn't been in the room long.

As if Nero had _never_ lived here, and so had never cleaned the place for his own use. 

As if...

"No," Nero murmured, his skin prickling with goosebumps. This was insane. Couldn't be.

(There was no smell of Vergil in DMC. That didn't make any sense. It was almost as if...)

Nero turned at once and went back down the hall to Dante's room, where Dante still lay in a sprawl, snoring a little now.

Dante's body was different, Nero realized at last. Not drastically, but the subtleties were profound. No hair on his chest. (Yet.) It was morning; usually he would've sprouted some scratchy whiskers overnight, but there were none; Dante's face was as smooth as a boy's. (So far.) He was _smaller_, Nero realized, trying to understand and terrified that he did. Shoulders not as broad, waist trimmer, pectorals not quite as defined. He'd always been taller and broader than Nero, but Nero reckoned that if he stood up now, he wouldn't be.

As if he wasn't fully grown yet.

_As if Nero had traveled back in time and met Dante in his fucking teens._

Nero's hand shook as he held it out, tried to summon the Black King, and failed. Needed to concentrate to pull things out of etherspace, and his thoughts were a jumble of raw panic and _whaaaaaat_. Finally, though, he managed to summon the sword. He'd hung the leftover timesteed hoof, tied with a piece of old twine, around the Black King's crosspiece. It dangled from the sword's teeth now, swinging, and... glowing. It had never stopped glowing, he recalled with a deep chill. Not even after he'd killed its former owner.

He reached for the hoof, still disbelieving. This fucking demon relic had _not_ just snatched him back in time with its dying spell. It couldn't have. This couldn't be.

In the bed, Dante stirred a little. He didn't lower his arm from where it covered his eyes, but Dante heard him smile. "That you, gorgeous? So you weren't a dream after all?"

Nero's fingers touched the hoof.

There was a sort of snap -- not of his fingers, but _reality_. A lurch that made him feel queasy, although as far as he could tell, he didn't actually move. 

And then suddenly Dante's room was brighter, cleaner. The mostly-empty pizza boxes were gone, the dirty socks had been picked up, the curtains had been pushed open. Nero remembered doing all that during his last fit of anxiety cleaning. But more importantly, Nero wasn't alone.

Dante -- fully dressed this time, broad-shouldered again, fortysomething again -- sat on the bed. He'd drawn up his knees and propped his arms on them, hands dangling loose; his head rested back against the headboard. He watched Nero with an old, knowing calm. "Hey, kid," he said, his voice soft. "Welcome back."

Nero stared at him. Then the timesteed hoof, dark now, swung toward his hand and he cursed and grabbed for the piece of twine, gingerly plucking it free of the sword so it wouldn't touch his skin. He set it down on a nearby dresser, sent the sword back into etherspace, and then turned to stare at Dante again. "What the fuck," he finally managed.

"Timesteeds do that, sometimes, when they die," Dante said. "Should've warned you. Don't worry, it's harmless now. But if you hadn't sent it to etherspace so that its last power was preserved, it wouldn't have had enough juice left to bring you back. You'd have been stuck there, twentysomething years in the past."

Jesus. "How... why..." Nero shook his head, groping for explanations that made sense. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you'd met me before, Big D? _Fucked_ me before? Holy shit, why -- "

Dante shook his head, slowly. "What was I supposed to say, Nero? That I thought you were just a dream I'd had -- some kind of fucked-up manifestation of Vergil, filtered through all the alcohol? That I didn't recognize you -- now-you -- until just a couple of years ago, when we started screwing and I _smelled_ you and realized then what must have happened? Was I supposed to tell you that I fell in love with you then? A _dream_? Because I'm just that lonely and fucked in the head?"

Nero just kept staring. After a moment, Dante sighed and shut his eyes. He looked exhausted. Had he been here, awake, all night? Nero inhaled. Since he'd given Nero the timesteed job, when it came in over the phone. He'd known.

"I didn't know what to think," he said to Nero. "Back then. Vergil -- it had only been a few weeks since Temen-ni-gru, and I felt... I was... I don't know."

_Grieving_, Nero thought, still staring.

"I was _not a hundred percent_ myself." Dante grimaced. "So, like, in you walk, this gorgeous guy, never seen you before but there's something familiar about you. You give me a demonic artifact worth thousands of dollars and you smile like you missed me, and then you head up to my room like you belong there. I wanted to touch you. I wanted to... feel like... I had somebody. And just for that night, I did." He sighed heavily. "Sorry."

That jolted Nero out of staring. "Sorry?"

"Well, I mean technically, you got sleep-creampied by a total stranger. Consent issues. Hygiene considerations -- "

"Ugh. Why do you have to make it sound gross?" But now that Nero had begun to calm down, he saw it a completely different way. And, too, he'd seen how tightly Dante held himself. He wasn't looking at Nero as he sat there, hands dangling but twitching every so often, no smile on his mobile face. Even twenty years ago, he'd smiled to cover whatever he was really feeling. Not today. That meant it hurt too much.

And that, Nero couldn't take. He rubbed a hand over his hair and grimaced. "God, I'm still rank. I'm gonna take a shower, now that my room_ exists_ again. Want to come with?"

Dante lifted his head. His gaze was serious, even though he said, "You trying to say I stink, too, kid?"

Nero rolled his eyes and blushed. "No, dumbass. I'm trying to seduce you into comfort-sex, fuck you for making me spell it out."

Dante blinked in genuine surprise. Then he smiled -- a real smile, though it was small and weary and broke Nero's heart. Always so weary, Dante's little smiles. Always so tired, he was, from so many years spent alone. And here Nero had made things worse.

Dante got up and stretched. His shirt-tail rode up as he did it, affording Nero a look at the same lovely abs he'd admired the night before, though more developed, now. A man's body instead of a boy's. Nero liked both, of course, but it was the man he'd grown to love, over the years. And if the boy had gotten a taste of some of that love prematurely... well. It was cruel, but the whole business had a happy ending, didn't it? Did that make up for the pain he'd caused? 

Maybe not, but Nero was going to try. He went over to Dante and grabbed his hand. "You're taking too long." He dragged him out and down the hall.

"Bossy," Dante said, sounding amused, but Nero knew the truth. He got them into his room -- his again, free of boxes, filled with his huge bed, smelling reassuringly of Vergil as well as himself and Dante -- and stopped outside the shower to undress Dante.

"Yeah, bossy," Nero said, unbuttoning Dante's shirt and pushing it off him. Dante just stood there. It wasn't like him. "You wouldn't have been able to put up with me, back then. Lady says you were a pushy ass yourself; we probably would've killed each other. And even I could see you were flirty, which means I'd have had to kill somebody, eventually. You looked like sex on a plate, back then."

Dante held out his arms while Nero unbuckled his pants. "Yeah, well, I figured maybe the whole 'over 40 million served' look was too much after some weird guy walked into my house and apparently _expected_ me to fuck him sideways. I mean, I did, but I started wearing more clothes, after that."

Shit. Nero's fingers faltered for a moment, and then he focused on the present and pushed Dante's pants off. He turned and started the shower and pulled Dante in with him before closing the shower door. When Dante just stood there again, under the hot spray, Nero soaped them both up and then stepped close, running hands over his body to stroke him clean.

"That weird guy," Nero said, after the silence had grown heavy. "You fucked him, though."

"Of course. Prettiest ass I've ever seen."

"Well, then. You had to do it." He lifted Dante's arms, ostensibly so he could rinse the soap from Dante's pits and really because he wanted to run his hands down the join of arm to chest, admiring the demon-enhanced muscles of a warrior's lifetime. "That weird guy was too tired to appreciate what he had, but I'm guessing that the kind of dude who walks in and wants a sleep fuck is probably used to something else."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Nero stepped close to let his arms slide around Dante, hands pressing flat against the heavy musculature of his back. Dante sighed and leaned against him, which made Nero purr with satisfaction. He liked that Dante was bigger than him, even if only by a little. "Guy like that's probably kind of clingy, see. Wants something settled and strong, built up over time, battle-tested. Something that feels good even when things change. Someone he can trust no matter what." He brushed Dante's lips with his own. "You probably would've thought he was boring, if he'd stuck around. Boring and pushy and jealous, 'cause there's only one other person I'm ever going to share you with."

"And Vergil was gone. You wouldn't have wanted me, without him."

"Hey." Nero pulled back to frown at Dante. In the shower spray, Dante's hair hung limp and wet around his face, much like how he'd worn it back then. He looked younger and empty and alone, even here with Nero. "You know that's not true."

Dante took a deep breath, looking away. "Yeah. Sorry, kid. All of this has just..." He ran a hand over the back of his head and sighed. "I don't know. I'm all messed up inside, but I shouldn't be. Truth is, if you'd stayed, I'd have _used_ you. I'd have decided you were some kind of consolation prize for losing Vergil, a weird alternate-universe version of him that wasn't an asshole, and it would've twisted everything between us."

Nero nuzzled Dante's mouth. "I wouldn't have let you. I would've _made_ you see me for who I am."

"You didn't know me then, Nero. I was... I didn't care about anything before Temen-ni-gru. And after Vergil turned on me, forced my demon awake... You wouldn't have wanted that me for long."

Nero had grown heartily sick of this. He shut off the shower spray and shoved Dante up against the tiled wall. Not hard. Dante was fragile at the moment. But he needed to make the man _understand_. "You stupid _ass_, Dante. You don't think I know this about you? You don't think I would've used every bit of what I know about you, every advantage, back then? You think I don't want _every_ part of you, angry or sad or whatever? What part of _I love you_ do you not understand?"

Dante started, just a little. Why? Nero had said the words before. Maybe Dante hadn't really believed them, though. Maybe, for the past few years, he'd been processing that the mysterious lover of twenty years ago and the smartmouthed kid of today were one and the same, and trying to reconcile them, and failing -- because _he_ was the one who'd changed, not Nero. Nero's love for Dante was the same as it had always been.

Well. Time to remind him of that.

He folded his arms around Dante's neck and kissed him. Dante did not respond at first, just standing there -- until Nero kept the kiss going, coaxing him, cupping the back of his neck with one hand and pulling at his arm until Dante put it around him. Even then Dante moved slowly, uncertainly. Usually their demons took the lead when they were together -- either Dante's monster demanding its due of Nero's tender flesh or sweet blood, or Nero's demon lord craving the reassurance of Dante's submission. This was different. A human need.

(And it had been human Dante then, too, hadn't it? Twenty years ago. He'd been amused and considerate and... lonely. And afterward, he'd _hoped_. He'd wanted Nero to stay, hadn't he? And Nero had not.)

"I'm here now," Nero murmured, kissing his way down Dante's beautifully hairy chest. Dante's hands, on his shoulders but not moving, suddenly twitched. Yeah, that was it. "I'm here, Big D. Not going anywhere this time."

Dante was silent when Nero found his cock and kissed it. Not hard yet. Heartache wasn't exactly sexy, Nero figured. He tasted Dante anyway, caressing him with his mouth because he loved Dante's cock, and Dante's hands twitched on Nero's shoulders again as he shivered in unavoidable response. He was halfway hard when he swallowed audibly and said, "When I figured out it was you, I... I was scared to say anything. Scared to _do_ anything, unless it was something you pushed first. Didn't want to... nnh... create some kind of time paradox."

Nero moved under him to draw circles around each of his balls, while his hand kept working Dante's cock. "Yeah, I hear those can be a bitch. It's all done, now, though." Very gently he drew each of Dante's balls into his mouth, then let them slurp free. "I'm yours. I've _been_ yours. Nothing's going to run me off."

It was working; Dante's breath had quickened and he'd begun to relax, inhaling and resting his head against the shower door. "You were older than me, back then. Knew what you wanted. Knew what _I_ wanted." He shuddered as Nero returned his attention to Dante's cock and started swallowing him down. "It was sexy as fuck. Then to realize that was the same person as the gormless little shit who drank up all my liquor because he couldn't handle having a demonic libido..."

Nero laugh-coughed off of him, then stood and stepped close. He kept a hand on Dante's now-beautifully-hard cock, teasing him, handling _Dante's_ demonic libido with expert skill. "Must've been a shock."

Dante had hands on him, stroking his back, pulling up one of his thighs so he could grind against Nero. Hungry now. He breathed in Nero's ear, "But then I liked it. I'm the one who taught you all that confidence. Well, me and Verg." His hands faltered a little then.

Nero braced his back against the tile wall, then lifted both feet to brace them against the shower door, bracketing Dante and -- he hoped -- suggesting next steps. "He taught me humility. You?" He pulled Dante's head down for another kiss. "I wanted to _be_ you."

Dante's hands were on his hips, lifting; yeah, he'd gotten Nero's suggestion loud and clear. He lifted his eyebrows too, and grinned as he nipped Nero's lips and pulled back. "No shitting? Huh. Wild." Then he licked his lips, and something in his gaze darkened. "Think I want to load you up again, kid."

"Yeah." Nero pulled at him, hungry, frustrated. Dante was such a fucking _tease_. "Fuck me, please Dante. I want you to come first, all the way in. I want to _feel_ it, every fucking drop."

"Gonna wash that filthy mouth of yours out with soap one day." They still stood under a full shower spray. Dante had already begun pushing into him -- rougher this time without oil, but Nero cursed and arched and shut his eyes, and Dante sighed in pleasure as he sank home. "Wild to find out how much you like being hurt, too. Man, I was so _careful_ with you, back then." He hefted Nero's hips higher, got him braced at a nice angle, and then started fucking the breath out of him. "But _this_ is your favorite thing."

Delirious, Nero clung to Dante's shoulders and moaned, lost in it already. "Y-yeah..."

Dante laughed. "And it's the best way to shut up that gorgeous mouth of yours." His smile faded quickly, though, and Nero felt Dante's eyes scouring his face, wanting something that banter couldn't bring forth. That was all right, though. Nero knew his Beast. It would come out eventually.

In the meantime, Nero let himself relax and take all of Dante's hungry force, and it was just as good as the night before... twenty years ago. Better, because this time Dante knew his body and worked all of its secrets, so he hovered on the edge of a climax for what felt like forever, begging for more, never wanting it to end. When Dante abruptly pressed hard against him and thrust deep for a few jerky seconds -- yeah, perfect -- it felt like only moments had passed, but the water had had time to go cold. 

A moment later Dante jerked free of Nero, wrenched open the shower door so hard that something in its frame cracked, flipped off the water, and then dragged Nero out.

"Bossy," Nero laughed breathlessly, but then Dante threw him onto the bed and shoved his thighs apart and sucked him down like spaghetti. It took almost no effort for him to completely destroy Nero this way, because Nero was right there on the brink already -- but for a blistering few seconds Nero knew only suckling and heat and thick white hair beneath his clenching fingers, and a pleasure so intense that he wept and couldn't breathe and thought he might die. Then it broke, and he screamed out a string of profanities as Dante sucked the orgasm out of him, along with possibly several years of his life. 

And while Nero whimpered in the wake of this, hoarse and loose and helpless beneath him, Dante propped himself above Nero on one hand, wiping his mouth with the back of other. He didn't look angry. Just... _terrifying_, all of a sudden. What the hell? Silhouetted by the bathroom light, radiating power, he gazed down at Nero, and suddenly it was very difficult to forget that Dante -- kindly, human-hearted, ever-laughing Dante, Nero's first family and second love -- was the most powerful being in the two worlds. And there were consequences to loving, and hurting, such a man.

"You're not getting away from me this time," he said, while Nero blinked away sweat to look up at him. "You're mine, Nero. That's not my demon saying it, it's _me_. I waited for goddamned ever for you to come back to me, and you're here now, and _I won't let you go again_. Understand?"

Shit. There was nothing Nero could really say, except, "Y-yeah." And while he had a moment to feel foreboding in the wake of this -- because he suddenly remembered that Dante had _killed_ Vergil the last time Vergil broke his heart -- it vanished almost instantly. Because... he didn't want to hurt Dante, did he? The opposite. Dante had been hurt enough.

So he lifted a hand to stroke Dante's scratchy, stubbled cheek. Dante sighed and shut his eyes and leaned into this, and like that, he was just a tired middle-aged man again, taking a moment's comfort in the touch of his young lover. And Nero loved him more than life itself.

"C'mere," he said, and Dante came, lowering himself to fold arms around Nero. Nero curled 'round him in turn. They fell asleep like that. And in the morning, when Dante woke and lifted his head, Nero smiled at him, still there.

#

Vergil strolled in while Nero was at Dante's desk. Nero had focused on Dante's books, struggling to make heads or tails of his uncle's shitty handwriting -- God, next up on the modernization agenda was a computer, and decent accounting software. Still, the familiar, granite-deep weight of his father's presence, plus his welcome scent, quickly pulled Nero out of concentration, and he looked up and beamed. "Hey, you're back." Oh, shit. "Did you kill anybody?"

"No. Though I wish to be particularly commended for not cutting off the head of a customs agent who attempted to solicit a bribe from me." Vergil set a small box, wrapped in twine and brown paper and stamped all over with customs marks, on the desk.

"Color me impressed. Why the hell didn't you just fly there? With, um, your wings, I mean."

"I prefer to conduct human business as humans do. It makes for a more interesting challenge." Vergil moved around the desk slowly, however, his gaze sidelong on Nero; Nero blushed and grinned, picking up on his mood. "I do feel that I've served my human nature enough now, however. A whole _week_."

Nero grinned and turned Dante's desk chair around to face Vergil as he came behind it, letting his legs fall open in blatant suggestion. "Yeah. That's a lot, for you. Maybe we can stand you some nice rough demon sex, to make up for it."

"I find your proposal intriguing." Abruptly Vergil bent, catching Nero by the neck and pulling him forward. Nero permitted this without protest. It felt nice, actually, as Vergil pressed his face against the back of Nero's neck and breathed once, twice. "Interesting."

Since this could mean anything with Vergil from "I'd like to fuck you" to "Based on your ability to kick my ass I might be willing to concede that your argument is valid," Nero nuzzled at his jaw and prompted, "Yeah?"

"Dante's claimed you."

Vergil smelled magnificent, as usual. Nero bit his jaw, very gently. He was just full of suggestions, these days. "Eh, we had some shit to work out. But you know I've been his forever."

"No. You haven't been." Vergil straightened, somewhat to Nero's disappointment. His expression had grown thoughtful. "Dante isn't dominant. He has the power to be a demon lord, certainly, but no inclination, and his claim upon you has been... figurative, previously. You indisputably carry his ownership marker in your scent now, however. Along with mine, of course."

"Huh." And Dante hadn't even bitten him. Nero blinked in surprise. Then he worried, because Vergil _was_ dominant, and pissy about anybody encroaching on what he thought of as his. "Uh, is that gonna be a problem?"

"No. I ceded partial ownership of you to him some time ago. If he's finally chosen to formalize it, it makes no difference to me." He'd kept a hand on Nero's throat. Now he slid it up to Nero's cheek, and drew a thumb over his lips. "Very good. We won't be needing that, then." He nodded toward the parcel on Dante's desk.

"That thing you went to buy?" Nero touched a tongue to Vergil's thumb, which earned him a soft growl from his father. "What is it?"

"A timesteed hoof. Fully charged." Nero froze. Vergil's smile was, for once, human. "But as I said, it isn't necessary anymore. I can sell it, instead, for a considerable profit."

Shit. So if Nero had somehow screwed up the whole thing between him and Dante... He almost laughed, relaxing as he understood. "Jesus. Anybody ever tell you you're a big softy?"

"No. And _you_ won't ever say it again, either, by the time I'm done with you." Vergil caught Nero by the throat again, this time hauling him up and against himself. Then he lifted his head and scented the air, thoughtful. "It seems Dante's home. I must chastise him for his poor management of you, in my absence. Then -- since you belong to both of us -- let's see if we can't teach you some respect, between us."

"Mmm." Nero curled against him, sliding one thigh up and around his hip and brushing Vergil's lips with his own. "Fuck. Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good boy." 

Then Vergil manifested two sets of wings, and wrapped one of them around him. It was the most comforting sensation Nero had ever known, missing only one thing: another body behind him, and a soft voice chuckling in his ear, and a scratchy cheek against his own. But that was his for the having, too, wasn't it? Whenever he wanted. These two fucking assholes, whom he never, ever wanted to leave.

"I'm glad you're back," Nero said, meaning every word. "Let's go make sure everybody gets a nice welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

> My muse isn't done with me! Sigh.
> 
> This felt weirdly jumbled the whole time I was writing it, and I'm not sure why. I think because I kind of wanted to make the fic comedic, but Dante's nature inherently made it a little sad. See, I replayed DMC3 lately, and -- maybe because I've internalized the Family Affair canon -- it's hard not to notice all the signs of Dante's unhappiness in this game. He's almost a total nihilist at the start of DMC3, a year after he last saw Vergil. Doesn't give a fuck about anything, doesn't care if the world ends. He really is kind of sex on a plate the whole time (IDK how Lady didn't hit the hell out of that, because I sure would have), but what if that's just him acting out his loneliness, offering himself up to any and all comers because Vergil rejected him? And although he's reached a kind of emotional resolution by the end of the game (and changes into the DMC1 outfit, ugh), he's still openly grieving Vergil for a while. So if Nero met him at that point, it just wasn't going to be a happy story. I did try to give it a happy ending, though.
> 
> Also, poor millennial Nero, having to deal with these ridiculous Luddite assholes.
> 
> Kept slipping into present-tense while writing it, so sorry in advance if I missed a few subject-verb agreements.
> 
> I am apparently in perpetual prompt-mode, so if you've got 'em, throw 'em at me. Comments or Tumblr (w4rgoddess).


End file.
